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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393574">If You so Desire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinereous/pseuds/cinereous'>cinereous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Magical Bond, Magical stimulation, Other, Xeno</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:47:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,398</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinereous/pseuds/cinereous</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time he tried to reach out it felt like he was doing it through prison bars, unable to reach far enough to make any sort of meaningful connection. At least here, with Arsene, there was nothing holding him back. Save himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arsene/Kurusu Akira</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Chocolate Box - Round 6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If You so Desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpieChaos/gifts">KelpieChaos</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This work was beta read by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/habenaria_radiata">habenaria_radiata</a> who is the best.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akira’s friends were endlessly impressed with his ability to summon multiple personas. It was unique and life saving to always have a good elemental match to each enemy they encountered in the depths of Mementos or the palaces that they infiltrated. They ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed with each new and more powerful persona he summoned during battle, and some days Akira couldn’t help but feel pride in it.</p><p>He was given the power to protect his friends and the victims outside of this strange reality. He was given an arsenal, and as their leader that was important.</p><p>But no matter how pragmatic and useful his abilities were...Akira found himself jealous of the other Phantom Thieves.</p><p>They each had their own special persona; battle companions that lived in their hearts and represented who they were to the world. Akira could only imagine the intimacy that came from weeks and months spent working together and feeling the very specific and loved magical spark in their chest and tingling behind their mask. It was a closeness and a trust that Akira had never been afforded.</p><p>He had to be helpful. He had to be strong, quick, clever.</p><p>Ruthless.</p><p>None of them knew what it felt like to work closely with a persona only to make the decision to fuse them in the barbaric way the prison did. The bright ‘shing’ and thud of a guillotine haunted his sleeping hours, short-lived friends meeting macabre, unjust ends by his own hands.</p><p>Akira remembered his very first execution the most vividly. Arsene had saved him and his new friends from certain death in that castle. The first time Akira had summoned him it was like he finally knew what it felt like to be alive. His blood sang in his veins and every shadowed corner of his soul that had gone into mourning and hiding felt lit up and burned clean by his presence.</p><p>The whole journey to escape it felt like there was a second heart beating in his chest, just shy of in time with his own. Each beat against his ribs cried out: you are not alone! The fire he had thought he’d lost was a raging inferno, spilling out of him in daring backflips and reckless jumps. Akira forgot to be afraid because exhilaration tasted bright and nebulous as stardust on his tongue.</p><p>And like all good things in Akira’s life, it was taken away by his own doing, and yet against his will. Watching the guillotine drop over the shapeless mass of Arsene felt as final and gut wrenching as the handcuffs he’d felt on his wrist that night so long ago.</p><p>Blue flames haunted his dreams now almost as often as blue prison walls, but he had finally done it.</p><p>With Kaneshiro now taken care of the twins had come forth with even more intense fusion options that made Akira nervous to try...until they explained that he could sacrifice one persona to empower another. He had always considered himself a particularly selfless and level-headed person, but in that moment he had dived headfirst into a dark place.</p><p>Their battles had been getting more and more difficult and the stakes were rising by the day. Each of his friends needed him for different things, and Akira was working so many side jobs that he was shocked he could keep up with his own schedule alongside school. He hadn’t even hesitated to bring Arsene back, using this new sacrificial fusion to make sure he would be powerful enough to withstand the enemies they were facing.</p><p>Akira knew the exact moment Arsene came back into existence mid-fusion. It was not the blinding light or the magic filling the air, but the sensation in his chest that unfurled like wings covered in flames, licking at his wounds and burning cobwebs of loneliness and self-doubt to ash.</p><p>The twins made no comment over it if they noticed at all, but Akira dashed away tears of absolute relief that day, his whole body shuddering under the comforting weight of being <em>whole</em> again. Even after leaving the prison and exhaustedly making his way back to Leblanc, Akira lay in bed that night with one hand pressed up against his chest where he swore he could feel the rhythm of a second heart, hear the far away rattle of chains, and feel the soft caress of feathers against his cheek.</p><p>After that, it was like the floodgates had opened up. Every spare moment Akira had he was dragging his teammates to Mementos. He took any excuse to get to the Metaverse where he could feel Arsene all the more potently. No online request was too small when all he truly wanted was the burst of giddy flames along his mask and arms and the rush of euphoric magic that signaled Arsene flaring into life before him.</p><p>The trips were exhausting him and his friends to the point they started to beg off. Akira couldn’t blame them, and he found himself turning up to Shibuya alone, initiating the app and calmly walking down the escalator to the platform below.</p><p>Some days he went in and fought the low level shadows. It was something to do. It was fun and exciting, and he was able to pick the lock on any chests he found for a steady flow of pocket change. </p><p>Other days, however, Akira did nothing more than summon Arsene.</p><p>His persona never seemed to mind. During his awakening he remembered Arsene had a ton to say, explaining he was his spirit of rebellion and pushing him to use his powers, but now Arsene was quiet, almost a silent spectre that hovered in the air before him, his burning face illuminating the dark station and larger than Akira remembered back in April.</p><p>Akira didn’t mind his silence. He didn’t need to talk. All he needed was to be near him, breathe in the magical scent that clung to him like burning roses and paper and bask in the coal of pleasure and relief that settled in him every time. It was like a pressure valve being released with each summon, and stress Akira hadn’t even realized he was holding sloughed off of him in waves each time Arsene appeared.</p><p>At first, Akira did little those afternoons.  He would practice his knife skills or test out whatever new bombs he created. Others, he would have fun to try to blot out the anger and depression that followed him through school by surfing down the escalator handrails and doing his best to flip in the air or launch himself into Arsene’s massive arms.</p><p>But more and more frequently Akira found himself doing little more than reading and talking to him. It started small. Akira had a test on the book the next day so he sat reading on the edge of the platform, his pointy toed boots bobbing as he kicked in distraction. He’d voiced a question out loud, wondering if the protagonist’s interest in birds was symbolic in some way. </p><p>He was struggling to read by the light of his phone, constantly shifting his grip and straining his neck. The last thing he expected was to suddenly be lifted up into the air by massive hands with fingertips that ended in deadly sharp points. Arsene didn’t hurt him at all, however, simply shifted him in his grasp until he had Akira nestled in the crook of his arm like a chair and his forever burning furnace of a face illuminated the book’s pages with ease.</p><p>“Does the man think of birds in a cage or flying?” Arsene asked. His voice was charmingly confident and overly dramatic, and Akira watched as the ‘expression’ of his face did not alter, but the strange ribbon like flames that protruded from the high points of his face seemed to flicker and sway in a manner that seemed curious.</p><p>Akira thought about the question, fingers sliding along the pages. Arsene’s chitinous body now beneath his weight was strangely comfortable. For all that he seemed made of metal, he felt very warm. It reminded him of heated blankets in winter and the hot ceramic of a coffee mug against his palm. It was comforting and he felt strangely safe even this high off the ground.</p><p>“Now that you mention it...he only ever talks about them flying. That’s a good point. I’ll have to remember that for the written portion.”</p><p>Arsene nodded, his whole body idly drifting up and down, but he made no move to put Akira back down. He did not fatigue or grow bored or question Akira. He was steadfast and there for him, warming him up and giving him light, his otherworldly breath sounding like a ghostly rattle through an air vent the whole time, but oddly lulling.</p><p>It was no surprise that the next time he visited Mementos he didn’t hesitate to pull out a book the moment his feet were on the tracks. Arsene didn’t hesitate either. He pulled him up into his arms immediately, bobbing in time with his wings and offering his company and his aid without asking for anything in return. There was no social link to fulfill between them. There was nothing but the subtle dual beat in his chest and the thrilled bashfulness that coursed through his body when, at one point, Arsene slowly shifted his wings to gently cocoon them both, sheltering him and creating a small space away from the world for him to disappear into.</p><p>Akira read to Arsene that afternoon. It felt only fitting that he had brought along his copy of The Great Thief. Arsene asked many questions about the hero, his glowing horns constantly shifting and growing brighter and darker depending on what was happening. By persona standards, Arsene was positively chatty, and he seemed particularly thrilled with a story that so closely aligned with what he stood for.</p><p>There was something infinitely special in making Arsene animate like this. To any other person, he would be horrifying. He was easily twice Akira’s height and consisted of almost nothing but sharp edges from his long, clawed fingers down to the actual blades on the heels of his boots. His body was a weapon, but here in his arms, Akira felt safer than he ever did in reality.</p><p>Eventually, Akira finished the chapter and gently closed the book, resting his head back against Arsene’s chest and idly lifting a hand to fiddle with the gold chain that draped from his jacket. His mood was a strange one, and Akira wasn’t sure he could put it into words. Loneliness filled his mouth like water so cold it made his teeth ache. The quiet desperation of being unseen in a crowd made him feel transparent and full of static.</p><p>Every time he tried to reach out it felt like he was doing it through prison bars, unable to reach far enough to make any sort of meaningful connection. At least here, with Arsene, there was nothing holding him back. Save himself.</p><p>Akira lifted his head to look into the not-exactly-eyes of Arsene, offering him a glum sort of smile and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Thank you. I know that you are meant for things far more exciting than listening to me read. You’re keeping me sane.”</p><p>It certainly felt true, and Arsene’s head tips to the side. The gesture was almost comical given the tall stovepipe of a tophat he wore. The expression on his face never changed, but Akira was learning how to read his moods and intentions through body language and fire.</p><p>“I am meant for you.”</p><p>A hand almost as big as his torso gently pressed up beneath the back of his coat and against his back, bleeding warmth even through the fabric of his vest. Arsene shifted him like he weighed nothing and Akira went along with complete trust.</p><p>He instinctively wrapped his legs around Arsene’s waist once the persona had gone still. It was the smallest part of his body and therefore the only place he could truly hold on, and a hot shiver raced down his spine to feel the heat of him now bleeding through the fabric of his pants and causing a little jolt of arousal to thunder through him.</p><p>This felt reckless. This wasn’t just fulfilling a need for companionship and belonging any longer. This was turning into something that felt so much more self-indulgent and hungry. He didn't just want someone to see him and talk to him...he wanted someone to <em>touch</em> him.</p><p>Akira swallowed his nerves and stared up at the flaming face of Arsene looking down, asking a question with his eyes that he didn’t have the courage to voice aloud. And strangely, Arsene seemed to understand.</p><p>The hand that was not supporting his back lifted then, and Akira’s lashes fluttered down at the sensation of sharp, pointed nails dragging through his hair. Each graze of them along his scalp or the back of his ears sent intense, blindingly hot shivers down his spine, magic sparking off every strand of his hair.</p><p>“O-oh, that’s incredible,” he babbled, head tipping backwards luxuriously while Arsene kept caressing and scratching and setting his nerve endings on fire. The hint of arousal from before blossomed into something far more worrisome now, and Akira clutched at the fabric of the persona’s vest as his body betrayed him.</p><p>Was he really doing this? Was he really spoiling the one good thing he had carved out for himself? It felt like self-sabotage. It felt like…</p><p>“Even now you don’t know the feeling of rebellion in your heart?”</p><p>Arsene’s words jarred Akira’s eyes open, and he looked up at the alien face that was positively overflowing with flames now. “I am the rebel’s soul inside you. I told you once that I would consider granting you the power to see you through crisis. This too I choose to see you through. Rebel against your thoughts of guilt and shame. They are <em>beneath</em> you.”</p><p>He was still so melodramatic. Akira would smile if he wasn’t so busy being thoroughly scandalized that Arsene had apparently read his mind or just guessed that effectively. His mind reminded him of the strange dual heartbeat that now thundered in his chest, and Akira had to admit that perhaps it was neither. Perhaps this connection between them was something far greater than telepathy or kinship.</p><p>After all, he’d heard the disembodied words in his mind over and over again by now each time he invested his time into his friends.</p><p>
  <em>I am Thou...Thou art I.</em>
</p><p>Claws raked through his hair amid his thoughts, cracking and jumbling them up like a boot heel into a layer of ice, making way to the cold depths underneath. Akira felt exposed and too open under those fingers as the arousal simmered low in his belly. </p><p>Arsene’s hand supporting his back dipped just a little lower, reminding Akira of a dramatic ballroom dance. He felt like the heroine being wooed and didn’t hesitate to let his arms fall limp over his head, dripping towards the gravel and concrete below. His coat trailed down as well, staying on him by the sleeves alone and gracefully exposing the elegant line of his body as he was held poised and relaxed.</p><p>This, more than Arsene’s words, was what set him at ease. Blind, foolhardy trust in something he didn’t fully understand was intoxicating. His coat was heavy and kept slipping down until it was little more than a form of restraint against his forearms, baring his shoulders and biceps to the heated, flickering gaze of his companion.</p><p>What had he said during that first meeting to Arsene? </p><p>
  <em>Give me your power.</em>
</p><p>An ache blossomed between his legs and Akira sank his teeth into his lower lip as those words coursed and tumbled through his mind like water, filling his doubtful spaces and drowning the last of his complaints.</p><p>“Show me how,” he whispered, eyes slipping open a bare sliver behind his mask and a slow smirk pouring across his face. The heat emanating from Arsene’s body seemed to surge hotter and a faint rumble vibrated from him and into Akira’s body. It trembled against his spread legs and Akira could feel the hum of it against his cock where it was pressed so intimately against Arsene’s navel. </p><p>So much about this position sent his mind vaulting into dirty fantasies and the idle thoughts of his friends or celebrities he’d entertained during tedious moments of class or work. The slow, jerking rhythm of Arsene’s wings called to mind far more sexual rocking motions, and the heat swirling in his stomach became a boiling pit of hunger in only seconds.</p><p>Arsene’s strange horns burst with a passionate rush of flames, going brighter and vibrant as if to show his interest and the flames behind his oddly cut-out face burned faintly more blue.</p><p>“Hmph. Very well.”</p><p>He wanted to be offended, but Akira found himself charmed instead. It was the same put upon response he’d given him in Kamoshida’s castle, and Akira knew without any doubt that Arsene not only <em>would</em> help, but was eager to show off. If he truly was his own sense of rebellion, Akira knew that’s exactly what Arsene wanted.</p><p>“Think about battle. Focus on what it feels like to summon me, to issue commands, the rush of magic that bursts free of you.”</p><p>Akira took Arsene’s words to heart, letting his body relax once more. His legs tightened around the persona’s waist, but he allowed himself to turn to dead weight in the massive grasp of his clawed hand. He felt like a ragdoll dangling there, head tipped back and eyes closed as he thought about battle.</p><p>His heartbeat quickened, fast and like a bird’s wings against his ribs. His fingers and toes tingled, and his veins sang with diamonds and stars and blinding white embers. It grew and bounced through his entire system, swelling and churning and tidal-waving up up up. It felt like ecstasy and adrenaline and pure, unfiltered <em>freedom</em>. So much that he felt he might rip at the seams and explode into pieces until…</p><p>Flames erupted from his mask. Akira’s eyes shot open, wide and bright. Blue flickering and dancing flames licked across his vision and curled sweetly through his hair and down his jaw. He could feel the caress of not-quite smoke slither along his bare arms and neck. It was like a thousand hands gliding against his body, and up above him, Arsene’s face was completely back-lit in blue.</p><p>Summoning or using Arsene in battle had never felt <em>this</em> good before. Was it because they were touching? Was it because Arsene was <em>making</em> it feel good? Akira had no way of knowing, but he focused in deep and found that intent inside of him and pushed it to the surface again, this time with his eyes open.</p><p>Now he could see the way Arsene reacted. The burning furnace of his face flared so bright and hot he could see blue sparks fly out and die on the ground. The odd pulsing, burning veins in his horns went just as bright, and his wings flapped down hard and fast in a way that seemed accidental and distracted.</p><p>Akira only had a split second to admire the fact that he...he was turning on his persona before pleasure slammed into his body. The flames that had been playfully licking at his hair and his arms blossomed into an inferno of otherworldly blue so intense and overpowering that he lost sight of his companion.</p><p>His whole world was blue and hot and exciting and good. Goodgoodfuck<em>yes</em>. His easily ignored arousal became a painful pulse between his legs, and Akira felt sweat forming against his lower back where his vest had ridden up with Arsene’s grip.</p><p>It- It was a feedback loop.</p><p>His breath left him in a delirious laugh, and Akira practically wiggled with his excitement as he focused inward all over again, prying up his will and his intent until fresh, fiery magic spun free of his human body in dizzying eruptions of wildfire.</p><p>Akira could hear the deep, rattling purr of Arsene over him as he thrust his chest upwards and let the line of his body arch. His muscles stretched and relaxed and he uninhibitedly rocked his hips to drag his interest against the leather vest buttoned over Arsene’s hard, armor-like body. Fuck, he’d never felt this good before. Every single nerve ending was screaming with euphoria, something that was not quite sexual for all that he was reacting that way.</p><p>The chill of cold metal slid against the exposed strip of skin of his stomach, jarring him from his muggy, amorous panting. His eyes slid open, and while his world was still engulfed in azure fire, he could see chains slithering along his body like snakes.</p><p>For a moment, Akira was terrified they would latch on, clamp down, tighten and hold him like the ones he experienced in his dreams, but they never did. They slid and wormed up under his clothes, cool and curious and creating overwhelming shockwaves that shook his whole body. Heat and cold warred for dominance, and all the while Arsen’s sharp nails dragged through his hair.</p><p>Two chains crept down his body until he could feel them nudge and glide against the trapped shape of his cock. Just that sensation after minutes of nothing but his own eagerness flooding him felt like almost too much. Akira cried out to the eerie subway station, his whole body pulsing up with enthusiasm. The chains seemed to have a mind of their own, wrapping and coiling and undulating against his hidden arousal while the licking, feathering, <em>maddening</em> flames kept burning all over him.</p><p>Akira was lost. He moved his body without any thought any longer, completely given in to the pleasure swallowing him whole. He could barely hear his own moans over the rushing of his pulse in his ears, but he knew deep down in his heart that he was <em>begging</em>.</p><p>He wasn’t even thinking any longer. He wanted to break free. He wanted to fight against this barrier. He wanted to smash it open, jump over the cliff, free fall. He wanted to come.</p><p>His eyes opened to see Arsene looming up above him, bathed blue and menacing and comforting, all light and jagged edges and familiarity. Akira’s gaze narrowed as he searched his soul for that seed of rebellion that had grown and blossomed over the past few months. He’d asked Arsene to give him his power, and now he was going to show him that he knew how to use it.</p><p>Fire and heat and magic like he’d never experienced before roared out of him in a massive wave that sent his hair and their clothes billowing back. He could hear the clink of chains and the click of small rocks on the track down below and the sound of his coat finally shaking free to land on the ground. </p><p>The fire that blasted out from his mask this time around was the purest and most unrealistic shade of red that he could see like a solar flare through his closed eyelids. It was practically like paint for how vivid it was, and Akira couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to a shadow if it had the misfortune to be in this space with them during the detonation.</p><p>Akira screamed and hung still and suspended. Something bigger and more terrifying than lust or pleasure spilled out of him now. He felt like a gushing wound, running over and splashing across the world around him. Ecstasy like he could never hope to describe in a million years raked through him like divine hot coals. Every second of it, every panicked inhale was laced with otherworldly smoke and embers that tasted like open, never ending red sky.</p><p>His vision tunneled, and Akira felt the hold of his legs around Arsene’s waist go slack. Every shred of his energy deserted him at once. He was only vaguely aware of being lifted up into the persona’s warms, pressed into the rumbling heat and unforgiving hardness of his chest before he finally succumbed to darkness.</p><p>When Akira woke once again, he found himself splayed on the chilled, grimy linoleum at the entrance of Mementos. The blue of the Velvet Room door cast the space into eerie shadows, and Akira was suddenly and extremely upset to find that Arsene wasn’t around.</p><p>He sat up quickly, focusing on his magic and touching his mask as he always did to summon him…and nothing happened. In a panic he tried again and again, growing increasingly terrified, but after a moment he realized he could still feel the dual beat of his heart in his chest.</p><p>Akira pressed his hand there and tried to slow his breathing as well as ignore the uncomfortable dampness of his pants and the fact that he had obviously been moved after passing out. Feeling shaken, he pulled up his phone and thumbed through the menus until he saw his statistics...and it caused a slow, utterly baffled smile to slide across his lips.</p><p>0 SP.</p><p>Akira chuckled to himself, sounding punch drunk and delirious as he rubbed at his face and worked to very slowly get up to his feet like a newborn deer. He felt incredible, but exhausted, and there was a lightness in his chest now that spoke volumes to him if only he knew the language.</p><p>Near the door on one of the plastic seats Akira spotted his book. He walked over to pick it up, running his red fingers along the cover of The Great Thief. He cast a glance towards the darkened space beyond the escalators and then flipped to the last page of the book. It felt somehow wrong and exciting to cheat like this, to skip to the end unprompted, but the rebellion danced in his eyes as he did so.</p><p>The last page was only a third full, and his eyes rushed to the last lines that were obviously dialogue.</p><p>
  <em>“And I believe we will meet again some day. Yes, the world is too small -- we will meet -- we must meet -- and then--”</em>
</p><p>His heart skipped a beat. And then beat twice.</p><p> </p>
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